


Here For You To Take

by liberalmage



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Bondage, Bottom Erik, Dom Charles and sub Erik, Dom/sub Undertones, Gay and Mutant in the 1960s, Gunplay, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insecurity, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Top Charles, Trust Issues, a little bit at least, idek, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberalmage/pseuds/liberalmage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Erik, asking for his trust is like asking for his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here For You To Take

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this after watching [this amazing fanvid](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kwHlgJrVgcM), and listening to two specific songs (that you should totally listen to: [1](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bimam2j2gEg), [2](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BcIYGs5nkk)) on repeat. It's my first time writing such heavy porn, but I wanted to explore D/s undertones and gunplay. Unf. Anyway, I hope I did what I had in my head _some_ justice, and the universe would be super fun to explore so there might be more in this 'verse eventually. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!

Erik doesn't know many instances he feels safe anymore. He used to feel safe all the time, as a child, wrapped up in his mother's arms on cold nights, and even though his toes were blue and his stomach rumbled, he still felt that now-foreign warmth in his chest that signaled safety. He's learned by now that the feeling is just an illusion, because nobody is ever truly safe, but that didn't make it feel any less comforting.

And now, somehow, he feels safe again, lying there in his bed, floating a coin around and in between his fingers idly and effortlessly, the feel of the metal familiar against his skin. It isn't on account of the currency he's fiddling with, nor the slightly uncomfortable, cheap motel bed underneath his fit body. It might have something to do with the running water in the nearby bathroom, and the person using it.

Erik, becoming impatient, reaches out blindly with his power, feeling for the shower's faucet, and twisting it when he finally brushes it with his ability. He hears the water click off, and no sooner there's a voice that isn't his in his head.

_Impatient, are we?_

The voice is oddly gentle and soothing, considering the genuine anger that may be brewing beneath the words. The owner of the voice doesn't like being interrupted in any activity he may be busy with at the moment, but there are some occasions where all Erik gets is a soft chiding and some teasing, along with a very non-threatening warning not to do it again.

_Very. You've been in there far too long. Get your ass out here_ , Erik thinks in reply, eyes still closed. He lets fantasies flutter across the back of his eyelids, starring a young man with rosy red lips and cheeks, with sky blue eyes that squeeze shut with pleasure or keep themselves steady on Erik, entranced with whatever the metal bender happens to be doing.

There's a laugh from the bathroom, one that echoes in his head, the combination strange but warm, and then the gentle padding of wet feet against cold linoleum. “Honestly, Erik,” Charles says, his voice slightly chiding as he enters the bedroom, toweling himself off with one of the scratchy motel towels, “I wouldn't have been much longer.”

“I don't care,” Erik replies idly, eyes scanning Charles' lithe body. Smaller than Erik's but not weaker, not by a long shot, this Erik has learned from experience. Even if he couldn't manipulate his enemies' minds, he could still manage himself in a sticky situation. This still doesn't stop an unwelcome feeling from poking at Erik whenever Charles is alone.

Charles likes to tell him it's worry, and while he appreciates it, it isn't founded; Erik likes to tell him to fuck off.

Erik can't exactly help it, though. Charles has saved his life more times than he can count, and vice versa. To worry about the other man, whom he's become so very close to, is only natural, isn't it? And after such a close call with an FBI agent—MacTaggert, Erik believes was her name—Erik can practically feel Charles' stress, which he could be projecting. He needs to unwind, and so does Charles.

Charles finishes with the towel, throwing it over to the corner of the room when he's mostly dry, allowing Erik to watch him. He doesn't crawl into the bed immediately like Erik is so obviously expecting, _wanting_ , but instead he ducks down over by the clothes he abandoned before entering the bathroom. From his messy stack of laundry, he retrieves his gun.

Erik cocks an eyebrow as Charles looks over at him. The sight is somewhat erotic, and very contradictory; Charles is standing there, holding a gun, completely bare. He's in control yet so vulnerable at the same time, and Erik can't decide whether he's at an overall advantage or disadvantage.

“That's your decision, darling,” Charles tells him as he finally crawls up onto the bed, gun held quite carelessly in his hand. They deal with guns enough to feel all too comfortable around them, in control of them, while others would squirm at the cold weight in their palm. But most of those people have never killed anything, much less men, with a gun. “Am I at an advantage?”

“You always are,” Erik answers, almost without thinking. Charles' telepathy is an extraordinary gift, allowing him to manipulate one's most personal possession—their mind. At any time, including _now_ , Charles could be manipulating Erik. For all he knows, these last several months haven't happened at all and are all an illusion implanted in his mind. Charles could be completely a different person; so could Erik.

Charles gets an almost sad look in his eye, his features turning solemn. Erik hates that look on Charles' face, hates seeing him sad almost as much as he hates seeing him go cold in those moments of inescapable, intense rage. He's seen them both enough that he should be used to them, but he accepts that he probably never will be. “I want you to trust me, Erik.” His voice is quiet, almost indiscernible, but it's there.

To Erik, asking for his trust is like asking for his life. He's trusted people before, and it's only left him with heartbreak and _pain_ , almost left him with death. When he trusts someone, betrayal is imminent. But, he supposes, he has already unwittingly trusted Charles for sometime now, let the other man get under his skin during the course of these months they've been together. He hadn't realized it by now, but Charles makes him feel...

Erik shakes the thought and reaches out for Charles, and can tell the telepath is considering pulling away, but quickly gives into Erik pulling him into his lap. The gun falls onto the pillow next to them, forgotten in the moment, as Erik runs his hands over Charles bare, slightly damp back. He can feel Charles hovering on the edge of his consciousness, like he's tempted to reach in and see what Erik's thinking, but clearly isn't willing to breech the metal bender's maybe-trust.

Charles is obviously waiting for Erik to say something, but he doesn't bother. _Actions speak louder than words, no?_ Erik projects towards Charles' eager gift, knowing he's been heard immediately. Erik pulls his hands away from Charles' skin, instead spreading his arms wide and pressing the back of his arms to the metal bed frame behind him. Hardly a thought later and its wrapping itself around Erik's wrists, up into his palm, giving him something to grip onto.

Charles seems almost speechless, eyes lit up with wonder and perhaps something else that Erik doesn't quite recognize. “Erik,” Charles starts, “you really don't have to.” Charles doesn't sound like he's really protesting, simply stating a fact, because he's already running his hand down Erik's already bare chest, his touch feather light.

“I know,” is all Erik says in reply. “Do as you please with me.” _I trust you won't hurt me_.

“Oh, I will.” There's a devilish grin spread across Charles' already sinful lips even as he replies, with his power, _I will never hurt you._

Without prompting, Erik's mind flashes images of all the things Charles could do to him, both good and bad; there's Charles between his thighs, sucking him off, but then there's Charles with a knife, cutting open old scars, tracing patterns Shaw made so long ago.

“I'm not going to intrude here,” Charles says after a long moment, touching his fingers to Erik's temple. “Not now, not ever. What you want to share with me, you can share with me in your own time. There's no need for me to go digging.”

Erik isn't quite sure whether he should take that as an insult, implying that Erik is easy and willing to share secrets, or that it's a reassurance, a promise of sorts; that Charles isn't going anywhere, and is willing to wait and listen when and if Erik is ready to divulge his past with the other mutant. But Charles doesn't elaborate, so Erik doesn't ask. He isn't sure if he wants to know.

If there's one thing Erik has learned about Charles, it's that he takes indecent pleasure in exploring every inch of Erik's scarred, imperfect skin. At first, Erik had assumed it was some kind of disgusting kink, but there's something about the way Charles softly appreciates each and every one, admiring it in a damn near _loving_ way, that proved him wrong about that.

Charles kisses along a long, smooth scar across Erik's chest, lips equally as smooth, as soft. Once he reaches the end of the scar he transfers his attention to one of Erik's nipples, licking at it and causing Erik's breathing to hitch. “I do love how sensitive you are here,” Charles murmurs, his breath warm against Erik's damp nipple. He bites down on it gently, and Erik bites his lip to hold back a moan.

Charles' fingers skirt along the hem of Erik's pants, making their way to his button and zipper, undoing them deftly. Erik easily could have taken the initiative to do that himself, but this is all about allowing Charles to do whatever he wants and trusting that it'll be what Erik wants, too.

Erik is already mostly hard, even from the scant foreplay; years of needing to get a wank in quickly, usually in just five minutes if he wanted one that week at all, have left him used to feeling aroused at the smallest touch. Even if he wasn't that way, if his body didn't react so quickly, he's sure Charles could make him feel like this nonetheless.

“Of course I could,” Charles says cheekily, and Erik rolls his eyes, huffing as the telepath slides his jeans off of him. He takes Erik's jeans all the way off, tossing them to the floor carelessly before smoothing his hands along Erik's legs. He plants himself between Erik's thighs now, finally leaning in for a kiss.

It doesn't last long, and it's chaste compared to their usual kisses, just Charles' lips against Erik's. Erik's almost starting to get frustrated with the pace of things already, and he's not even fully hard yet. Most nights, they get each other off fast and messy, a blowjob or a handjob that's just enough to push them over the edge. Other nights, they'll actually fuck (by unspoken agreement, whoever had the rougher day gets to fuck the other), but even that is quick, just not as hurried their usual exchanges.

Now, Charles ignores Erik's cock, even if just for the moment, to kiss at Erik's thighs, sliding between them and down the bed to be more comfortable, making his intentions clear. The mere thought of Charles' mouth around his cock is enough to make him harden, and he sucks in a breath as Charles bites down on the inside of Erik's thigh, sucking a dark mark there.

“For God's sake, Charles, could you just get on with it?” Frustration practically seeps from Erik's voice as he leans his head back against the wall, gritting his teeth as Charles laves his tongue over the new purple mark he's made. He doesn't reply at first, just latches on again, sucking another mark onto Erik's skin, getting him harder and harder.

Once he's satisfied with the marks, leaving even more on Erik's other thigh, he finally wraps a hand around Erik's cock, the dry drag of skin on skin tearing a groan from Erik's throat. “ _Now_ I'll get on with it,” he replies, after forever, bringing his thumb up to spread around the drop of pre-come welling at the tip of Erik's cock. “So hard for me already, darling?”

“Fuck you,” Erik manages before he moans at the warm wetness of Charles' mouth sinking down around his cock. He tries to buck up into it, as Charles bobs his head up and down, fucking his mouth onto Erik's cock, but Charles keeps his hands planted firmly on Erik's thighs, keeping him in place.

Charles is _amazing_ at giving head, Erik has to admit, and Erik could get off just like this, just from the _sight_ of Charles' hollowed out cheeks and obscenely red mouth on him, but the telepath is obviously planning for more. He reaches his hand up to Erik's mouth, and Erik parts his lips without hesitation, mostly because he's too blissed out by Charles' swirling tongue to think. He sucks on them for a moment, getting them nice and wet, before Charles retreats with them.

Charles rubs the pad of his index finger against Erik's hole, and Erik automatically spreads his legs wide, almost shaking in anticipation. Charles pulls off of Erik for a moment, his mouth slick with spit and pre-come. Erik begins to protest, ask why the fuck Charles stopped, but he gets his answer as Charles index finger begins to breach his entrance.

The spit isn't enough to properly work as lube, so it burns a bit, as Charles works his finger into Erik. But Erik groans nonetheless, ignoring the pain and concentrating on the good of it, on the pleasure he feels so intensely.

“You look so pretty right now,” Charles tells him, and Erik would lash out, but his voice isn't anywhere near mocking. Instead it's filled with _affection_ , an emotion Erik isn't very familiar with, not even from Charles. “Bring the lube over here. While I know you would let me take you just like this,” to prove his point, he wiggles his finger in a bit further, and Erik doesn't fight him, despite giving a little gasp, “I think it would be much more pleasurable for both of us if we had something to smooth the way.”

Erik uses whatever concentration he can muster to find the tin of Vaseline on the dresser, even with Charles' finger still pushing itself deeper into him. It floats over to them shakily, and hovers in front of Charles only for a moment before dropping down onto Erik's thigh, the metal of the tin cold against his burning skin.

Charles removes his finger, and Erik winces just slightly at the drag. Charles leans up to kiss the corner of his mouth, holding the tin of Vaseline in his hand now. They're going to need more, for sure, and soon, because there's not much left. Charles takes a small amount from the tin, enough to tease by rubbing against and around the rim of Erik's hole, making him squirm for a moment.

“On your back,” he says, before pulling back, leaving Erik cold, but only for a moment; Erik obeys almost instantly, releasing himself from the bed frame before sliding down, onto his back for Charles, legs already spread, cock pressed up against his belly. “Good. Now...” He searches around the room for a moment before getting of the bed.

Now, Erik can see that Charles is hard, too, and Erik feels an overwhelming amount of anticipation. Usually, Erik is too ashamed to admit how much he likes bottoming, especially for Charles, but right now there's no room for shame, the desire too thick, and all he wants is Charles' cock, inside of him, filling him up.

Charles grabs a scarf of his from his bag, the cold requiring it (and making him look cute, though Erik won't say it out loud), before returning, grabbing both of Erik's hands together. He pushes them up towards the headboard, straining them a bit, before tying them to the metal. “There we are. Perfect,” he says, leaning down to give Erik a proper kiss.

His cock is nudging at Erik's hip now, and Erik wants to touch it, to feel it, have it in his mouth—

Charles groans into the kiss, setting his hand on Erik's chest before pulling up. “Well, that's a nice image,” he comments, face flushed. “But all I want right now is to fuck you into next week, would that be alright, darling? Maybe next time.”

Erik huffs, rolling his eyes despite his current vulnerable position. He feels vulnerable, sure, but somehow not _helpless_. Charles won't hurt him, he's almost completely sure of this now, and the revelation is... freeing. And making this so enjoyable, because he never could have done this with somebody he didn't trust like he does Charles.

Finally, Charles scoops some Vaseline out of the tin, spreading it along his fingers. He enters Erik much more easily now, that one finger taking no time for the other mutant to get used to. “C'mon, more,” Erik pushes, even though he knows Charles already knew he could take more; he's just taking his sweet time, enjoying the way Erik is so _desperate_ for it.

But he takes mercy and comes back with a second finger, stretching Erik out, working in his fingers with a type of professional ease that Erik is oh so thankful for. He slides in and out of Erik relatively easily, but with just enough lube lacking to give Erik that distinct feeling that's just on this side of a burn, but not painful, when being penetrated. And, fuck, he _loves it_.

“You should know how much I love seeing you like this, Erik,” Charles murmurs in his ear, pressing his lips right below and just breathing him in. “God, you have no idea how perfect you are. You may be damaged, but that doesn't make you any less beautiful.”

Erik struggles to keep his breathing even, between the fingers up his ass and the things that Charles is whispering in his ear; they're both very distracting, albeit in different ways. “You're going soft, Xavier,” he manages, before gasping as Charles fingers manage to find his prostate.

“Oh, I'm not soft at all.” Charles bites Erik's earlobe as he removes his fingers, then leaning back to smooth some lube onto himself before lining himself up at Erik's entrance. “Nor am I a very honest man. But you're just going to have to take my word for it, aren't you?”

Erik, uncomfortable with all the talk of _emotions_ , brings his legs up as Charles pushes in, just the tip, probably planning on taking it slow, _too slow_ , to torture him. He pushes his heels into the small of Charles' back, pushing on him, and apparently surprising him, because he actually gets shoved halfway into Erik before stopping, steadying himself.

The searing pain below that makes Erik hiss is worth seeing Charles sputter. “Oh, _shit_ , you fucking _bastard—_ “He balls one fist in the sheets, near Erik's head, taking a deep breath to calm himself as Erik grits his teeth, trying to gather some leverage despite his position.

“I take that as a compliment.” Erik tries to keep any trace of pain from his voice even though Charles can clearly feel it, thanks to his gift. “C'mon, I can take more, _do it_ , Charles—“

“Fine, you want it like this, Erik?” Charles doesn't hesitate for an answer, his patience with Erik obviously gone and his temper lost, just finishes sinking in, faster than he would have any other night; Erik leans his head back and groans, squirming beneath Charles. “No. No, let me take care of you. You need that.” He sounds like he's reminding himself of this fact and not informing Erik.

“You don't know what I need,” Erik almost sneers, a brave move for a man with another man's cock shoved up his ass. “Just give it to me. I know you're holding back, you just want to pound into me, so _do it_.”

“Not everything is about me,” Charles argues, taking a fist full of Erik's hair and making the metal bender look at him. “You want to be fucked, so I'll fuck you. You wanted it rough, so I'm giving it to you rough. And perhaps I want both of those things as much as you, but you're still trying to be in control of it all, even when that's not what's best for you right now. _Trust me_.”

Erik stares into Charles' eyes, straight at his lust-blown pupils, and takes a long moment of consideration, his indignation at the thought of being taken care of slowly fading away. He could stop this right now, if he wanted, but if he says yes and truly allows Charles total control—not what he was promising before, but _complete control_ —then he can't say no until it's over. The thought, though... is almost _thrilling_.

“I trust you,” Erik says, still hyper aware of Charles' cock buried deep inside of him, hard and barely moved the entire time.

“Good,” is the only warning Erik gets before Charles pulls out, almost all the way, and thrusts back in, _hard_ , sending Erik sliding up the bed at the sheer force. Erik gasps, and Charles eats it with a kiss, one filthy and _finally_ more familiar than the ones Erik has been getting so far tonight.

Charles sets up a brutal pace, testing different angles until Erik cries out, then thrusting in that direction, finding and hitting Erik's prostate more often than not. The pain subsides rather quickly, better feelings blocking it out, but the glorious pace doesn't last long, or at least it doesn't seem to, before Charles is slowing down to more of a torturous drag, not nearly enough to please.

“Charles, what—“ Erik is already breathless, on the edge of pleading for Charles to continue, that he was _so close_ , but Charles isn't having any of that.

“Quiet, he commands, setting a hand over Erik's throat. If he added just a little bit of pressure, he'd be choking him, and the amount of power that Charles has over Erik right now is much more of a turn on than it should be. “You're so fucking tight. Jesus.” Charles has to take a breath, and Erik realizes why Charles stopped so quickly. It feels him with a sense of accomplishment, but he quiets, just as Charles wanted.

He begins thrusting again, shakily, slowly. “Don't want this to be over quite yet,” he admits as he peppers kisses along Erik's neck and jaw. “I want to keep you like this for as long as possible. Wish I could forever.” He sounds almost drunk with pleasure, and Erik lets out a whine when he reaches between them to touch Erik's cock, taking his hand off of Erik's neck.

He strokes a couple of times, and it brings Erik achingly close, but then he stops again when he sees just how close. “Mm, no,” Charles says, even though he seems just as close himself. This isn't going to go on much longer, both of them know it; Charles' eyes flicker to the side as his speed picks up a bit, but not nearly as fast as before, not nearly as hard as Erik wants it.

Charles reaches out with the hand that isn't supporting him over Erik in order to grab the gun, earlier forgotten, from the pillow. Erik can feel every part of the gun, can feel the bullets, can feel that the safety switch is off. But he doesn't grasp onto the metal with his gift in order to make sure it doesn't go off; no, he allows Charles complete control of the gun.

Charles must realize this because a moan escapes his lips, and his hips snap in just a bit erratically for a moment, losing their previous rhythm. He presses the gun up against Erik's head, and the metal bender hears him, _feels_ him, pull back the hammer, but he doesn't do anything. Just continues leaving the gun untouched, letting Charles bang into him.

Charles nudges the gun at Erik's temple, and breathlessly commands, with one final, hard thrust to his prostate, “Come.”

Fuck him, he _does_ , he comes with a cry and covers both of their stomachs with hot, sticky, white come, arching his back and jerking with his orgasm. Charles fucks him through it, hips stuttering but not quite _there_ ; Erik, fresh from his orgasm and a bit hazy, turns his head to take the gun where it had fallen from his temple and into his mouth, sucking on it like he wanted to Charles' cock earlier.

The sight and the thought must be enough, because Charles gasps, slamming into Erik as deep as he can go, filling him up. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes, pulling the gun from Erik's mouth, switching the safety on before tossing it away from them, still inside of Erik. “That was—“

He doesn't finish, but Erik gets the point when Charles leans down to kiss him, and agrees wholeheartedly.

Charles pulls out a couple of moments later, going slowly now that they have their wits about them and are no longer horny and drunk on lust. Instead, they're filled with post-orgasmic bliss, because Erik's sure both of them came harder tonight than they have in a long, long time.

Charles unties Erik gently, admiring the red marks that the scarf left on his skin. “You stretched out my scarf,” he says, looking at the woven piece of fabric woefully, though he throws it to the ground just a moment later without a trace of sadness.

“Don't blame it on me, you're the one who tied it,” Erik replies dryly, feeling too tired to move from his spot, even though he's free to do so now. He's not even really interested in cleaning up right now, though he'll regret it in the morning. Either way, whoever comes in to clean this room will be horrified when they see the sheets.

“You didn't even do any of the work,” Charles accuses at Erik's laziness, even though he's already getting up to go get a rag for both of them. Erik feels oddly content; they both admitted things to each other right here, in this bed, things Erik would have thought would change things in drastic ways. But they're teasing each other back and forth just as they would after they slept together any other day. Charles is treating him no different, not right now, and hopefully not later on.

Perhaps he's softer now, as he runs the warm, damp cloth over Erik's sticky skin, between his thighs. Erik has to remind himself that they're both hardened criminals, that they both have done and seen things they can never talk about again, but can never forget.

But still, even with the fact that they're both on the run and that neither of them can really be trusted looming over his head, as Charles presses up against him and falls asleep, his solid presence warm and reassuring, Erik can't help but feel safe.

 

 


End file.
